#gish finale

[leydhawk]

In honor of the GISH finale, my team MileHighSuperGishers is doing a ToysforTots fundraiser!

We are at 20% of our goal, but just like GISH, I would love to blow our goal out of the water!

Please give if you can.

Reblogs appreciated!

[x-files-scripts]

The X-Files - “The Truth”

Written by Chris Carter

March 22, 2002 (BLUE)

Deleted scene: Scully almost loses her faith...

Cut lines: “The only four people in the building who give a rat’s ass...”

Deleted scene: Mulder is about to get flushed...

[characterswithgodsnamesbattle]

Prelims

Poll A2

9 contestants, 4 spots for the tournament

[lgbtqreads]

New Releases: April 9, 2024

Young Adult Every Time You Hear That Song by Jenna Voris They say to never meet your idols. But they never said anything about upending your life for a quest designed by one. Seventeen-year-old aspiring journalist Darren Purchase has been a lifelong fan of country music legend Decklee Cassel, who’s as famous for her classic hits as she is for her partnership with songwriter Mickenlee Hooper. The…

[corvidscrimes]

Oh boy, oh boy, I sure do have a lot of opinions about The Dark Lord. I, like many others, never found Dark's motives to seem to stem from any ideas of conquest or villainy. To me, it seemed as though Dark created the virabots for Chosen. They must have realized that Chosen was no longer happy destroying the internet, which was the very basis of their positive relationship, so of course Dark would try to come up with a solution to help their brother. Unfortunately, they severely misunderstood what the issue was, instead assuming that Chosen must be put off by their lack of impact. After all, humans carry on with their days by the masses, hardly even inconvenienced by the two's efforts. But then, Dark's gift fails, and their relationship with Chosen is further strained. They finally realize how broken the two's bond is when they see that Chosen has decided to fight alongside Alan, who up until this point, has been who Chosen hated most out of anyone in the world, to oppose Dark. This realization that they had once again lost an important connection forced Dark over the edge, and, well, you know how it ends.

[dorindameddler]

you're not real: music for roman roy (spotify) (tidal)

1. imposter syndrome - sidney gish // 2. party clown - jenny lewis // 3. freak like me - caroline rose // 4. before the world was big - girlpool // 5. i don't want to be funny anymore - lucy dacus // 6. dog - helena deland // 7. sin triangle - sidney gish // 8. it's only sex - car seat headrest // 9. it hurts until it doesn't - mothers // 10. john wayne gacy jr. - sufjan stevens // 11. posing in bondage - japanese breakfast // 12. mouth log - sidney gish // 13. beach life-in-death - car seat headrest // 14. real pain - indigo de souza // 15. real love - big thief // 16. fool forever - thao & the get down stay down

other succession playlists by me:

kendall (spotify) (tidal)

shiv (spotify) (tidal)

[omgthatdress]

The Importance of Studying Queerness in Context.

When studying queer history, one always has to keep in mind two seemingly contradictory things: firstly, that queerness and queer people have always existed, but at the same time, that queerness and queer identities have not always existed the way they exist today.

Modern queer terms and identities did not exist to queer people in the past. They would not have thought of themselves as "gay" or "trans" or even "queer." While these modern terms may seem to fit certain historic individuals, these individuals would not have thought of themselves as such, and it would not be a part of their lived experience. To apply the modern identities of queerness to history is to erase the lives and experiences of queer people in history, and care must always be taken to understand queer history within the context of its time.

When looking at queer history online, there is a *lot* of misinformation and misidentification out there simply because people are eager to apply modern queerness to history, often in places where it doesn't belong.

A lot of old photos get misidentified as gay because they show two people of the same sex showing some level of physical affection towards each other. Okay, I'll admit that the open-mouth kissing photobooth pictures are probably actually gay, but an old picture of two men or two women holding hands or with their arms around each other, or even kissing on the cheek, were common shows of platonic affection.

I hate to break everyone's gay little hearts, but without explicit documentation saying so, assuming that these couples are all gay is putting modern queer identity in places where it simply didn't exist. The women in the final picture are sisters. The "not married" boys are bachelors interested in marrying women.

In the silent film Wings, the emotional climax of the film comes in the form of a kiss exchanged between the characters played by Jack Powell and David Armstrong. It often gets attributed as the first gay kiss in cinema history, even on the fucking YouTube clip I found:

Except it isn't gay. The two men spend the whole film fighting over who gets to be Clara Bow's boyfriend. When Richard Arlen's character is fatally wounded, his dear friend rushes to his side and kisses him goodbye, because in the 1920s, that was considered the ultimate show of friendship. The movie ends with Jack Powell falling in love with Clara Bow.

Similarly, a kiss shared between Lillian and Dorothy Gish in the 1921 movie Orphans of the Storm often gets attributed as being queer, but it wasn't.

They were sisters playing sisters. None of this was considered unusual.

Pooh-poohing on all of these images that so many people on the internet breathlessly and joyously laud as proud gay history isn't fun. It makes me feel like I'm fucking Ben Shapiro. But if misinformation is allowed to flourish, it allows people like Ben Shapiro to come in and make the argument that queerness is a modern invention and queer people didn't exist in the past.

Everyone loves to see queerness represented in history, but the fact is that none of the stuff in this post would have been seen as explicitly gay and thus shouldn't be called gay today. If we are to understand queer history in its fullness and richness, it is absolutely crucial that we get it right. We owe it to our queer ancestors to recognize, honor, and not embellish the actual lives they lived.

[phasecornnuts]

Hiiiiiiii! If you’re still open for requests maybe you might wanna write something where the reader casually mentioned that they/she had a partner on earth before they died and Alastor takes it a bit too drastically and has just been very salty and asking too many questions 😭 if you like that

Please & thanks ❤️

Hey guys I've returned! Sorry for taking a little while, I was busy with finals/I wanted to relax on my spring break so I didn't have a lot of time. I lowkey kind of cooked with this one too so enjoy :3

Also, I sorta made the reader be from around the same time period as Alastor (sorta late 1910s early 1930s) for extra spice

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had become a daily routine for you and Alastor to have afternoon tea together in cannibal town. Always, between the hours and four and six o’ clock after Alastor had finished his broadcast and you, your hotel duties, the both of you would walk down to Rosie’s Emporium to nibble on finger sandwiches, candied eyeballs, and other treats. 

The sun was still high in the sky, sending fingers of light through the windows of the cafe; the building was alive with the chatter of demons and hell-born alike. You and Alastor had just sat down, a short cannibal girl with a heart-shaped face and glowing brown ringlets placing your usuals on the table. Oh how beautiful they were! Too pretty to eat, garnished with tiny sprigs of mint (or, at least, it may have been mint) and resting on plates of delicate porcelain. With polished silver beside them, and matching teacups and saucers too, it all looked like a party for a girl’s favorite doll.

That is, if it weren’t human meat. 

Looking up from your plate, you saw Alastor turn his head to follow the cannibal girl making you frown. His gaze returned to you before he caught you staring, a chipper grin on his face as always.

“She could be a dead ringer for Mary Pickford, don’t you think?”

Your eyebrows perked. You hadn’t looked long at the girl admittedly, though you stared long enough to know that she was no Pickford. You pursed your lips,

“I don’t see it, Lillian Gish maybe.”

He looked at you like a mad-woman, “You don’t!?”

“No! Her eyes are much too large!”

Alastor chuffed, proceeding to rest his chin on his dark hand, “In the eye of the beholder I suppose.” 

You rolled your eyes, “You only say that because of her curls,” you stated while picking up the teapot and pouring yourself and Alastor your cups, “Now, drink before it gets cold.”

For much of your lunch neither of you spoke, merely enjoying each other’s presence while pecking on some food here and there. Throughout the meal the waitress brought more plates, pancreas tarts, minced tongues coated with cinnamon sugar, and sweet pies filled with rotted venison and cooked kidneys, all Rosie’s treat. Alastor had been taken by the small pies in their mulled deliciousness, the meat so tender you saw his eyes water. He pleaded you to try one, though you couldn’t, your stomach filled to the brim from the other treats and delicacies. 

Alastor picked up the small pair of silver tongs from beside him and placed two sugar cubes in his tea, “I do say, it’s nice to have a meal companion again.” He took a sip from his teacup and grinned. 

You nodded in agreement, lifting the milk jug from the table and pouring a generous amount into your cup. “Likewise. Good dinner conversation is a horrid thing to lose.”

“Truly.” He took another drink. “Before you, I hadn’t had a proper luncheon since my mother.”

“From what you tell she sounded like a fine woman.” His grin lost its eeriness, becoming fond instead. 

“She truly was, and such a fine cook too.” Alastor gazed at the fine pattern painted on the rim of his saucer, “her jambalaya was the best, our side of the Mississippi” he chuckled. He began to remember then, “And her gumbo and her crawfish etouffee and her pecan pralines”

It was odd to hear his voice so full of affection, but nice too. So strange, to think a man who broadcasted his murders of other overlords and feasted on their flesh was once a little boy who clung to his mothers skirt and happily ate her cooking. 

“Maybe one day you’ll cook for me then?” you teased

“Oh why wouldn’t I for my favoritest of sinners?” He took your hand.

You leaned in towards him, a silent flirtation. “Or perhaps I could prepare something for you?”

He looked at you from his dark, hooded eyes, a certain intrigue radiating from them. “Would you now?” he said, leaning in closer. 

“Oh I would, anything you’d like.” the tip of your oxford lingering at his ankle. “My food was good enough for my darling back on earth, why would an overlord of hell have any complaints? Other than not enough seasoning I suppose.” 

That was when the laughter in his eyes died. Alastor bit the inside of his cheek before finding the words to speak, “Your darling?”

 “Pardon?”

“You had someone,” He straightened up, pulling himself away from you, “back on earth?”

“I hardly see how it matters now.” 

Alastor’s tone grew curt, had such a simple word bruised his ego? 

He crossed his arms, “What were they like?” each word as sharp as his teeth.

You pulled your hands close to you, confused at his curtness, “They were….they were nice. Cordial, spirited, vivacious, however you would put it. If you’re-” Alastor cut you off. 

“How did you meet them?”

“On the trolley.” That only served to make him scoff.

“Tch, how common. The trolley.”

You chewed your bottom lip, trying to deny the anger towards him that began to knot in your belly. “It was a different lifetime.” You asserted, a hard finality to it. Pushing yourself from the small table you smoothed your skirt and adjusted the ribbon that was tied so nicely in your hair. 

Without looking at him you said, “Tell Rosie I’m grateful for her hospitality and I will try to find a way to repay her. Also that I’m sorry that I had to retire without saying hello but I feel rather…faint.” Before leaving completely you said, “See you back at the hotel.”

The rest of the day you hid in your room, sulking and pacing. Charlie had tried to coax you out, seeing how angry you’d been when you came back, but you denied every effort she had. 

“It’s not good to stay cooped up in there,” the Princess pleaded.

“I like my alone time.”

 “But- but I had games planned! Husk was going to show us how to play Blackjack and Dominoes!”

“I prefer bridge, and he’ll just cheat us anyways.”

She gave a disappointed sigh, and outside the door you could hear Vaggie talking to her, telling Charlie to give you your space. 

For three nights straight you avoided Alastor, finishing up your hotel duties quickly before hiding in your room. You grew bored after the first day admittedly, a person could only sleep and bathe and read so much. The fourth night is when he knocked on your door while you lied draped on your couch, your nose in a book you’d already finished before. Thinking it was Charlie, you ignored it, sure she’d get the message. It insisted however, rapping harder the second time. You sighed, annoyed. “Who is it?”

“Alastor, may I come in?”

A sour taste came in your mouth, “No.”

“You cannot lock yourself away from me forever.” 

You lifted yourself off the couch, full of bitterness, “I can and I will!”

An electric hum filled your ears, the sound of Alastor weighing his words, “Could you at least entertain my attempt?”

Walking to the door and opening it slightly you saw his face, those deep, hooded eyes dark as blood, cracked lips, and hollow cheekbones. All of those beautiful, haunting features draped in remorse. You sighed, cursing the affection you had for him. 

“Fine, but I’m still cross with you.” That made him smile, if only a tad. 

Opening the door fully, you saw he’d brought one of the dining carts from the unused kitchen clad in a clean white sheet. Alastor pushed it to the center of the room before spiritedly ripping the cover from the cart, presenting polished silver dishes of raw meat and organs. From the bottom shelf of it, he had pulled a fine bottle of wine and two shining glasses.

“I helped myself to a bottle of Husk’s finest, the patrons here don’t have as refined tastes as you and I.” He gave a small grin. So this is what he brought with him, a peace offering. Your stomach was empty from only eating a small meal earlier in the day, so perhaps it was not in vain, though you weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive him. 

“I’ll help you set the table,” you offered, feeling guilty he put so much effort into pleasing you. 

Alastor held his hands up, “No need darling.” He put his hand on his throat, “What I said the other day was very…” he coughed into his hand, “ungentlemanly of me, and I wanted to make it up to you.” 

You folded your hands and held them to your chest, looking at the embarrassment he tried to hide. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, and raised your gaze to his. “Thank you, Alastor.” His grin widened as he sat down beside you. 

He uncorked the bottle of wine, beginning to pour it into the glasses, “Of course.” He handed you the glass which you took gladly. The vintage was so dark it looked black, reflecting the lights that glowed from the ceiling. Swishing it, you could see the hidden shades of red that the wine hid.

“Demon’s blood, Husk calls it.” Alastor told you before he took a long sip. 

“Fitting. Do you know how long he’s aged it?” Alastor shrugged, taking another swallow. 

“I didn’t care to ask, but it tastes so good going down. Come, drink, I didn’t bring this up so I could get drunk by myself.” That made you giggle, how much he valued the both of you eating and drinking together. 

Taking his lead, you titled your head back, savoring the warm burn of the wine going down. Its hot fingers lingered in your chest before fading, like drinking cold medicine. In three large gulps you finished your glass, noticing the way Alastor’s eyes watched your throat as you drank. After finishing your second glass you began to dig into the food he’d brought, pancreas tarts, cooked kidneys and…oh good god! On the largest plate was a raw heart, fresh and bloody. 

“Where did you get this? You shouldn’t have!” Your eyes went wide and your mouth began to salivate. A raw heart! Oh and it was human too! Such a fine delicacy must have taken so much begging from Alastor!

“Rosie owed me a favor. And I owe it to you, for making such a jackass of myself.” 

You took another sip of your wine, feeling your face begin to flush. You helped yourself to a tart while Alastor poured himself another glass. As you ate you felt his eyes on you again, focusing on the way your teeth bit into the pastry, your swan’s neck showing your swallow, and how your tongue dragged across your lips. Feeling bold, you placed your feet in his lap and wiped the corner of your mouth with your finger, licking the tip of it with your tongue. He swallowed, hard, his eyes growing wide. 

“Are you looking at something?” Your voice a heavy seduction.

“Possibly.” He drank again. Leaning back on the arm of the couch, he placed his glass on the floor. The tips of his fingers grazed your legs, “Though I do have another question for you, if I may.”

A sultry smirk grew on your face, “That depends on what it is, Al.” God, you could see the glint in his eyes then.

Alastor looked up at you from his hooded eyes, “I’ve been wondering…about your “darling.” You arched an eyebrow; your interest piqued. “Did they ever have…you?” His breath shuddered. 

“Have me, how?” You teased.

“Oh humor me my dear,” He purred

You smirked and shifted your legs in his lap. “Hmm, maybe once or twice…” You sit up from your recline and crawl onto his lap.

“What sorts of things did they do to you?” 

Running your fingers down his chest you savored the way he squirmed and shifted, “All sorts of unholy things” 

Alastor choked on his breath, his eyes transfixed on your face. Slowly, he caught it, regaining a certain boldness afterwards. His hand found the top of your stocking, fingering the nylon taut to your thighs. “Getting rather comfortable aren’t we my dear?”

The smirk you had deepened and you pulled in closer, feeling the heat of his breath tickle your cheeks. You looked into his eyes, “I could get much more comfortable if you like, Al.” For what seemed like ages you lingered, until you felt you had tortured the man enough. Slowly, you leaned in, seemingly ready to kiss his shiny red lips. Grinning, you pulled a piece of dry skin from his bottom lip between your teeth, peeling it to show the bleeding flesh beneath. 

You sat back on his lap and spat out the skin. Looking at him, you saw that hunger in his eyes again. That fine line of decorum the two of you had with one another, ignoring the lingering gazes and longing touches, all thrown away with one bite. Underneath, you could feel his arousal beginning to grow hard. You rolled your hips slightly into him, earning a throaty groan from Alastor. From the silver dining cart you pulled the piece de resistance, that raw bleeding heart, and sunk your teeth into it, tasting the sweet flavor of iron. Trails of blood dripped from your mouth onto your decolletage, slowly turning brown and flaky.

Alastor’s breath heaved, growing even harder from that sultry cannibalistic display. He pulled you towards him and pressed your mouth to his, saccharine saliva mixing with sanguine. His tongue slid and twisted about yours, savoring every inch of its taste. You pulled away from him to catch your breath, making him whine. Leaning in again, he dragged his tongue along your neck, cleaning up the drying strings of blood. 

Both of you straightened up then, him holding you proper now. One hand ran its fingers through his shiny red hair and the other cupped his aching sex, so taut against his trousers. 

“Is that what you were so upset about Al? If they fucked me or not?” You purred into his ear.

The tips of your fingers fluttered over his hip, tracing its edge before returning to his cock. “I bet you wondered if I did this to them, didn’t you?” A small nip was placed on his neck, leaving a red half-moon. Your breath grew hot against his cheek as you whispered into his ear again, 

“Maybe I did, and maybe I did so many more dirty things to them.” 

Alastor enraptured your mouth in another needy kiss. His words heavy with radio static, “What sort of things my dear? Or are you all talk?” Your grin widened seeing the shock in his eyes when you began to unbutton his overcoat.

“Let me show you.”

Four little words was all it took to send him over the edge. Picking you up, his hands traced over all the parts of your succulent body. When he flopped you on the bed, hair as tousled as a pin-up, you reached out a stockinged leg to him, that devious look on your face growing. Oh how badly he wanted to have you, hastily unzipping your dress as you stripped him down to his undershirt and trousers. Deft fingers hooked around the tops of your stockings, pulling them down as fast as they could. You dropped his trousers and took off his shirt, admiring all of that soft, gray skin.

You pressed your mouth to the flesh of his stomach, blessing it with small love-bites that made him shudder. All along his torso you left red patches and traced your cool fingertips along the hard edges where his ribs poked out. You tilted your head up and moved his hands to the straps of your brasserie, exposing all of your hot, yearning flesh. He cupped a breast and lied on top of you. Grinding his sex to yours he moaned into your mouth. It had been so…so long since you’d been wanted, since someone pressed their body to yours and you felt all of their heat as they slid into you, over and over again. 

“Al,” You breathed

“What is it?”

“Get on your back.” 

And so he did. 

Alastor’s back against the mattress and your palms against his chest, you let him enter you. He let out a string of curses when you did, and even more when you started moving in those easy rolling motions. Those large hands of his held the curve of your waist as you rode him, his eyes half-lidded as he watched your breasts bounce. 

“The first time I saw you…” You began, going a little faster, “I wanted you,” You heard a small thud as he dropped his head against the pillows.

“I thought about you kissing me and touching me all over” That’s when the pulses of pleasure started to build up, prickling you in sweet needles that went all the way up your spine.

“And about you sticking your fingers in me and..and your tongue too” You felt your face heat up and your sex grow slicker, admitting those indecent thoughts you only entertained during late nights when your fingers wandered. Alastor gripped your waist tighter, making your rhythm harsher. You looked down on him, his eyes glazed over with euphoria, and felt your mouth pool with saliva.

Digging your nails into the skin of his chest you kept on. “For a whole week I couldn’t keep from slipping my hands between my legs.” Your voice, thick and hoarse. “I wanted to know what you tasted like, if-if your mouth tasted like blood,” that was when he quickened the pace even more. Your sex was so hot and wet, all the way at the base of your spine you could feel your orgasm coming to you, a full-body shiver that made your eyes well with tears. 

The last part was what sent him over the edge though. 

“Sometimes, I’d bite myself so I could taste the blood when I’d touch-” was all it took to make him come. 

Fuck it felt good too. A weak falsetto escaped your mouth when he released, so warm and filling. That’s what made you reach your end too. You clawed your nails in his skin so deep there were two broken half-moons on his chest. Your thighs clenched against his torso, quivering, as you could feel your body become as light and floaty as chiffon. 

Alastor let the both of you ride it out, that sweet joyous bliss. When your mind returned from the heaven it was sent to, you leaned over, resting on top of him. He moved you gently, pressing you closely to his chest. For a while, neither of you spoke, the air lingering with the smell of sweat and blood and sex. You ran your fingers through his hair again; He kissed the back of your hand before speaking. 

“If I’d known all that would come out of making you angry at me, I would’ve earned your ire a long while ago.” You rolled your eyes, flicking his chest playfully. 

“Perhaps we could do this again, without the arguing?” You propose, “You’re quite good at it.” 

A smile stretched across his face as he played with a lock of hair that rested near your face, “Expect nothing less from an overlord of hell cher.” One of his hands slid to your lower back, tracing small circles on that creamy flesh. 

“How about we try one more time without the arguing, for good measure?”

You smirked and kissed him again. All for good measure.

[mittensmorgul]

Hi everyone! I just need like two minutes of your time.

Have you enjoyed all the scripts that the @spnscripthunt has posted over the last few years? Have you screenshotted them and written meta and made gif sets or just cried over your favorite scenes again? Have you supported the group in any way?

Would you like to OWN one of those scripts, autographed by the stars of Supernatural?

Maybe you miss participating in GISH, doing some wacky fun good in the world and the style of fundraising we learned there-- that many people making small contributions can come together to change lives.

Well, we are down to our last little stack of scripts now, with no new scripts coming on the horizon. This project has been thrilling, and we're trying to send it all off with a bang. We're giving away the final portion of the collection, all signed by the cast and crew, and hopefully doing a little good in a very big way.

We picked RIPMedicalDebt as our final charity, because of the exponential power of increasing how far our donations will go. $10 donated pays of $1,000 of medical debt, free and clear with no tax burden to the recipients! With a small donation, you could literally change someone's life.

We get that folks outside the US might not understand how completely messed up the US healthcare system is, so for some perspective, 65% of people who file for bankruptcy in this country do so directly because of crushing medical debt. We know personally how horrifying the medical insurance system is in this country. One illness, one accident, can be financially devastating. But we can save a few people from having it completely destroy their lives.

We got the idea from John Oliver. This entire episode is eye-opening about debt in the US in general, but the part we're specifically interested it begins around 17 minutes in.

We're already a quarter of the way to our goal! Thank you to everyone who's already donated! What we need now is to spread the word!

If you've spent any time at all enjoying the work we've done, the scripts we've collected and shared with fandom, we're hoping you'll consider sharing our posts widely with anyone who might be interested. Our contact network has been demolished as twitter collapses (and historically the vast majority of our contributors have come from twitter), and we're practically begging just for a signal boost.

All the details on how to donate, and then enter the raffle can be found right here:

You can also see all the prizes we'll be making available, too! And if for some reason you're not interested in a prize and just would like to support the campaign, that's fine too, of course!

(but the prizes are super cool... at least we think so...)

You only have until November 5, 2023 to enter the raffle, and our final group of prizes will unlock when we hit $5000 donated (which could pay off half a million dollars in medical debt!)

Please help us spread the word, and good luck!

[thundersbugs]

hi tumblrrrrrr i finally made a meet the artist :p

LIST OF ALBUMS IN THE UPPER RIGHT CORNER!!!

dominic fike - what could possibly go wrong?

penelope scott - junkyard 2

diet tea other cola - VOLTAGE GATED SODIUM CHANNELS

underscores - wallsocket (director's cut)

pierce the veil - selfish machines

happyness - weird little birthday

bring me the horizon - POST HUMAN: NeX GEn

alaiyakasico - kasico3gou

chemlab - east side militia

the pharcyde - bizarre ride II

sidney gish - no dogs allowed

tyler, the creator - IGOR

[viperrot]

⇁high school sweethearts | leon kennedy | pt. 1

resident evil 4 remake leon s. kennedy x fem!band-student!reader high school au

there's a new guy in town, and he's pretty damn cute. too bad he hates your brother, though.

content contains: mild angst, enemies to lovers, tbh? mean leon, cliches, minor religious/christian themes, story is told in first person, reader is a bit shy and is an oboe and trumpet player!, leon and reader are in their juniour year, fictional town set around 1980!

3037 words

song rec: "kutsuro gish" by hiroshi takaki

pt. 2

what's this? the blossoming of a series? yes, yes it is! very self-indulgent. i love tropes like this so much. enjoy some mean leon content and a sweet enemies-to-lovers concept, little dove :]

Life in Everglade is... interesting, to say the least. Actually, it was extremely cliché here. Every Sunday and Wednesday, people would go to church, every Friday night was a football game, and the rest of the days were just busy nonsense. The people here rarely ever leave town, and people never really come in. It's been like this for years.

Until recently.

This fall, a handful of strangers tumbled into the little town of Everglade, proud home of the Everglade Ravens. Lucky for me, they even moved in across the street.

From my little window nook, I watch a dingy U-Haul pull up into the driveway across the street, and out comes four people. The first is a man that looks to be in his mid forties, dressed in khakis and a navy polo. Next is a little girl, who looks like a middle schooler. She's got a long skirt on and a flannel sweater, coloured with warm red and browns. After her is what I assume is an elder sister, but she doesn't look much older than the little one.. She's dressed in messy, paint-stained jeans, a black tank-top, and a pink windbreaker jacket to top it all off. She's the only brunette one out of the blonde family so far.

Then comes out the son.

Dragging himself out of the passenger seat was the most dashing boy I've ever seen. The smile he gives his sisters make my heart race—it honestly put Danny Zuko's smile to shame, and I love Grease! His blonde hair is parted to the side, hiding his eyes a bit. He's dressed up in blue jeans that grip around his thighs perfectly, a black t-shirt, and a navy-blue bomber jacket that had the sleeves rolled up to show off his forearms. From my spot at the window, I couldn't help but ogle. The mystery family all gathered around the front door of their new home to get a good look of the inside, and I couldn't help but keep my attention on the only son of the family. I noticed how their was no mother to be seen...

"Hey, thumper," a voice calls out from the door of my room. I tear my eyes away from the window to see my father, leaning against the frame of my door with his arms crossed. "He's been calling me thumper ever since I was little, seeing as how I stomp my foot when I laugh.

"Hey, pops! What's up?" I cock my head to the side questioningly.

"Mom's done with dinner. Meet ya downstairs, or are you gunna keep 'practicin''?" He smirks teasingly, looking at my unused oboe on the foot of my bed. I blush, rolling my eyes.

"I'll be down there... and I was practicing, thank you very much!" I huff. Dad just laughs at me and waves his hand, mumbling about how he'll see me at the dinner table. With that, I get up to collect myself. I take a quick look out the window one more time just to see if the boy next door was still outside, but the front door was shut tight.

I stumble down the stairs, my bunny slippers skidding down the steps as the smell of baked chicken filled my nostrils. Upon entering the dining room, I see my dad at the head of the table accompanied by my mom and my older brother, Damien, who sighs at the sight of me.

"Finally, you're here," Damien huffs. "Can you sit down now? I'm fuckin' hungry," he stretches his hand out to me so I can sit down and say grace with everyone. My dad throws a pen from his breast-pocket at my dumb brother, telling him to watch his language.

I sit at the other end across from Damien to avoid saying grace with him, holding hands instead with Mom and Dad with my head bowed down.

"Ahem... Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen," my mother says. Immediately after the prayer, Damien scarfs down the first piece of chicken he can get his hands on. I pick at some au gratin while my parents converse and scold Dami for being such a disgusting eater. I clear my throat to catch my parents' attention when they grow silent.

"So... uhm... There's new people across the street. Do you maybe... know about them?" I ask, giving my parents side glances. Mom shakes her head as a no, and before Dad can say anything, Damien coughs up a response.

"That punk Leon's the ace player from Greensmell's soccer team!" My older brother snorts, seemingly a bit angry.

So his name's Leon...

What Damien meant to say was Greenvale, which is a town over. They're probably Everglade High School's biggest rival in ever aspect—academics, sports, and even parties (apparently, I wouldn't know). The only thing I can confidently say they're bad at is marching. Their band is horrendous.

"Seriously?" I cringe at the information. "What are they doing here...?" I wonder under my breath.

"Probably got so embarrassed we beat 'em at state champ this year, the wimp probably got kicked out and thrown into Everglade!" Damien shouts with a mouthful of rice. I cringe at the sight, looking back down at my untouched au gratin.

"Cool, cool..." I mumble. "Uh... can I be excused? M'not really hungry," I ask Dad. He nods, going back to his food. Wordlessly, I take my plate to the kitchen to clean it up. As I wash dishes, I stare out the window blankly, eyes set on the house across the street. No one was out still.

I decide it's best to just go to bed after washing dishes, putting my oboe back in its case and setting it next to my backpack. I flop into my bed, part of me hoping to see this Leon guy again soon...

I hate gossip.

I can never tell if people are talking about me, the people around me, or to me. As I walk the halls of Everglade High School, oboe and trumpet cases held tight in my hands, I hear the little murmurs of the cliques of the school. Punks mumbling, girl's that try too hard to look like Sandra Dee whispering behind their palms, and some jocks laughing loudly about Leon.

Wait, Leon?

My converse-clad feet are walking through the hall faster now. As I bump past a bunch of students, I speed my way down to the lunch room, needing to see my friends as soon as possible. Luckily, one of them sticks out like a sore thumb today. Sporting a red blazer, blue flannel tennis skirt, and black socks, I see Samantha Grey in all her glory sitting on top of our usual table, talking to a few of our little group. I stomp up to her, the charms on my instrument cases clinking softly with each step.

"Sammy!" I whisper-yell. Her brown eyes immediately look over to my position in front of her, her black hair swaying.

"Hey, sweet pea~!" She coos happily, a big smile painting her face as she gets down from the tabletop to give me a hug. "Glad you aren't too late. Me 'n' the girls were just talkin' about the new hunk in town," she pinches my cheek before helping me set my cases down on the table. I sit next to her, getting settled.

"Hunk? What's this about?" I stare, acting like I didn't know who they were chittering about. Across from Sammy and me is Lucy Brail and Patti James, who I've known since diapers along with Samantha. Lucy is the first to speak up, clearly excited to talk about Leon.

"This stud just moved into town yesterday! Apparently, he's got two little sisters at the middle school, 'n all the boys here have been howlin' about how he probably got kicked outta the Greenvale soccer team after losing nationals this year!" She says with a grin that reaches her ears. My eyebrows knit together at the information that I had heard the night before.

"You call almost every meathead here a stud, Lucy," I chuckle. She gives me a weird look before scoffing.

"This one's different, sweet pea," Sammy jabs me in the side softly, and I yelp. "He's got this look in his eyes that just scream at me like he wants me!" She sighs dreamily.

"Are you sure it wasn't his pecs you were lookin' at?" I click my tongue. Another jab to the side, and it hurts a little more than the last. I roll my eyes.

"Whatever, I'm sure he's just like the oth-"

"Oh! Oh!! There he is, sweet pea, look!" Sammy grabs me by the jaw to turn my sights to the new guy.

There he is...

Across the lunch hall is Leon, dressed all pretty in a forest green letterman jacket with his initials on the right bicep. There's a few patches from some bands he likes and a big ole "11" on the back of it with "Greenvale" above it. He's still in tight jeans, but they're black this time, as well as his t-shirt beneath the well-worn coat.

"He's got some nerve wearin' that here," Patti mutters. We all hum in agreement as we watch him saunter over to the lunch line to get a carton of strawberry milk.

"Ain't he just a dream~?" Sammy breathes out. Lucy's got this blush that could be seen from Mars, and I swear that Patti's mouth is gunna get dry with how much she's drooling. My gaze is trained on the back of Leon's head, looking at how well-trimmed his hair is.

"He's... he is pretty cute," I mumble, jaw hurting a bit with how tight my best friend was gripping onto it. I hear her giggle.

"Don't get sweet on him now, thumper!" She reminds me, using that silly nickname. “God knows your brother would tear you a new one if he found out you wanted to get a piece of Leon Scott Kennedy," she lets go of my jaw, and I roll my eyes.

"M'not sweet on anyone, Sam," I grumble. Lucy giggles, twirling a strand of her blonde curls in her fingers.

"Isn't he right next to your house, (y/n)?" She asks me. I nod.

"Yeah, actually... How did you know?"

"Oh, sweet pea?! Please, please, please tell me you gotta good view of him from your room! If so, I'm comin' over every weekend!!!" Samantha begs, shaking me by the shoulder.

"H-hey, quit it! I dunno if he's gunna be upstairs or not, and that's c-creepy!" I gasp as she shook me. Lucy and Patti laugh as I get thrashed around. From the corner of my eye, I see Leon get closer. He's got a mean look in his eyes, like he's ready to bite someone if they get near him.

I guess he's trying to protect his peace...

The girls grow silent as he walks past our table, not showing any mind to how noisy we are. They all watch Leon like dogs to a bone when he scoots past us, tossing his milk carton in the air like he hasn't a single worry in the world. When he's gone, it's like we can all breathe again.

"Oh lord, he even smells good," Patti fans herself, a blush covering up her little freckles. Sammy grins in agreement, clearly happy that she got to see the new guy so close. I stick my tongue out in disgust.

“You guys are so gross…”

“Everyone, please welcome our new student,” Mrs. Bradshaw, the advanced chemistry teacher here at Everglade High, drones, motioning her hand to Leon near the back of the class.

And also next to me.

The blonde boy stands up, puffing up his chest a little.

“Name’s Leon Kennedy. Nice to meet you,” he says curtly before sitting right back down. Everyone’s giving him looks ranging from “I wanna rip his throat out” to “I want to kiss him behind the bleachers”, and it’s clear that he doesn’t care about it either. Mrs. Bradshaw clears her throat to stop annoying students from whispering.

“Now, let’s get started on our calorimetry unit. To begin…” The old hag’s words begin to go process in my brain as I get to writing notes. At times, I look at Leon from the corner of my eyes.

He’s writing on a piece of paper instead of a notebook, his blue ballpoint pen scraping against the surface as he messily jots down his notes. I’m pleasantly surprised to see that he actually cares about his education! I can see Leon’s tongue poking out between his plump lips, and I can’t help but stare a little. He doesn’t seem to notice me, until he looks up to check the blackboard up front.

Leon’s blue eyes set their sights on me, locking with mine. Quickly, I avert my gaze back to my notebook, trying my best to act like I was still writing notes. I hear him laugh a little next to me, but I make no effort to speak up.

When the class ends, and the bell for the next period rings, I gather my things to head off to the band room. Backpack slugged over my shoulders, I’m getting ready to pick up my trumpet and oboe case before someone else grabs of for me. Big, veiny hands take the cases by the leather handle, lifting it before my eyes. I look up to see Leon with a devilish smile.

“Caught you staring at me. Mind if I walk with you?” He says confidently. I’m a bit taken aback by his attitude, but I nod nonetheless. I’ve never really had a boy offer to walk me to class other than Damien…

“I can hold my-“

“Nah, don’t worry bout it. I carry my sister’s euphonium all the time,” he chuckles, his shoulders shaking a little as he does. I blush, not expecting him to even know what a euphonium is. So, he’s cute AND he knows the difference between a tuba and a euphonium..

“Are you sure? I-I mean, I don’t want it to be a hass-“

“Don’t worrrrryy,” he exaggerates. “Where are you headed? This is my study hall period, so I got time,” he grins.

“Uh… the band room. A-and thanks,” I tell him, nervously fiddling with my fingers. We walk out of the science lab together, me trailing slightly behind him as we walk.

“So, I’m guessing you and your little posse this morning was talking about me?” He asks, and I feel the blood rush up to my face.

Samantha and her big ole mouth…!

“Y-yeah…” I stammer, unsure of what to say. “Sorry about that… It’s just… we never really have any newcomers here, so the girls were just excited,” I bite my lip. I can feel the stares of people around us in the halls. Whether it’s out of jealousy towards me or hate for him, I’ve no clue.

“I see,” Leon hums. “It was kinda funny, so don’t apologize.” He says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. His fingers are gripping the handle of my cases tight enough to make his veins bulge a little, and I can’t help but stare. After our small talk, it’s quiet, and when we make it to the band room, we stop next to the door so he can give me back my things. As Leon hands over my instruments, footsteps thunder toward our position.

“You know, I thought it was just some sick joke hearing about my lil sister hangin’ around you, but I see that the rumours are true,” Damien growls, walking towards Leon and me slowly with his hands in the pockets of his black letterman. The blonde boy in front of me is still holding my oboe case as he looks at my older brother with an unamused stare.

“Well, had I known she was related to you, I would have never offered to carry her junk,” the ace smiled. I felt my heart drop at his words.

And then it felt like the world came crashing down on me.

Like it was fire, Leon let go of my oboe case, and it clatters against the floor. He’s staring my brother dead in the eyes as he does so, and I can feel tears swell in my eyes. I watch as my reeds, feather, and parts of the oboe pop out of the hard case, scraping against the floors of the hall.

“N-no!!” I yelp, unable to hold back my tears as I drop to my knees to gather the parts. A key or two had bent, and a few corks were damaged. I hear Damien shout at Leon, slamming his body into a locker. I don’t understand what they’re yelling about, too busy trying to pick up the bits of my instrument. More voices erupt, and I assume they’re people trying to pull my brother off of Leon Kenne-dick. My feather gets swept away amidst the commotion. When everything but that is successfully stuffed back into my case, I snap my head around to glare at the ace soccer player behind glossy eyes.

“You’re fuckin’ paying for this, you piece of shit!” Damien screams, thrashing against some teachers who dragged him away from the scene. Leon’s being escorted away as well, not giving me a chance to say anything. I’m left alone in the hall with my broken oboe before Samantha scurries out.

“Sweet pea! We heard all the ruckus, but Mr. Kay said it wasn’t safe for us to be out, and—oh, sugar…” she gasps lightly, crouching down next to me. The ravenette looks down at my open case, seeing the broken and bent keys and chipped corks. “Who did this…?” She asked me gently, setting her chin on my shoulder.

“Leon…” I hiccup, tears falling. The silence is heavy when I tell her this, and I know that Sammy can only see red. Without a word, she wipes my tears with her thumb before helping me into the band room.

I’m starting to regret wanting to see him again.

woohoo! chapitre un, fini :] i know it’s a bit lacking, but it’s just the beginning. hope you enjoyed! pt. 2 here!

[enjolraspermettendo]

I finally saw Les Miserables live in Milan yesterday so obligatory yap:

Okay first of all: KILLIAN DONNELLY?!?!?!? I was already excited that I was going to see him as Valjean but god that man's voice is just so beautiful. He played a spectacular Valjean, he dominated the stage and the crowd went wild every time he sang. I have no words. Just. What an experience. The whole cast was amazing but jesus, this man could do a one man show of Les mis and id give my first born to see it. Also, he carried around Marius's actor like he weighed nothing, that's so Valjean of him. Also, his soliloquy broke me, how he tried to give back the candlesticks after the bishop gave them to him, how he let the bag fall on the floor and picked it up only later. The emotion he put into his singing constantly brought tears to my eyes. What a voice. Indescribable

JAVERT!!!! Bradley Jaden was amazing. I love how much rage he gave to his character, it felt very true to the novel, on how he's compared to a wolf. In stars he's so devoted but the part that literally shook me was after he let Valjean and Marius go: he literally lost his mind and shouted "WHO IS THIS MAN" with such a wild air I literally gasped. He was unhinged during that song, so outraged and bitter and I loved it. It almost felt like he was killing himself to take Valjean's act of mercy away from him instead of his internal turmoil and honestly? I loved it. He had such a presence on stage it literally felt like he was the law. Also let's be honest, he rocked the coat

I LOVED Channa Hewitt as Fantine, She had such a warm and soft voice it felt like a mother's embrace. I cried 4 times during the show and 2 of those were Fantine's death and Fantine's part during the finale. She was perfect

Nathania Ong as Eponine????? I don't think I've ever heard someone sing her parts as perfectly as her. What a voice. Honestly I think the applauses for her were some of the longest and they were completely deserved. She made me cry. Amazing. Spectacular. I fell a little bit a lot in love. Unfortunately she missed the "He was never mine to lose" line but I think it was because her microphone wasn't connected?? Never mind she was perfect.

I know you all want to know about our boys Enjolras and Grantaire so. There wasn't much enjoltaire going on tbh but I didn't mind, I still think the actors (James D. Gish and Raymond Walsh) were perfect and I love their performance. Enjolras was completely focused on the revolution and keeping the others on track, while Grantaire mainly stuck with Gavroche all throughout. Enjolras's most positive reaction to grantaire was ironically clapping with the others at R's jokes once during Red and Black, but apart from that he was fairly hostile to him. During Drink With Me he tried to stop R from singing and bringing down morale by getting close to him and roughly saying "That's enough!" into the same microphone; after he stopped singing and everyone started moving away Enjolras tried to stop Grantaire or talk to him, he seemed kind of apologetic, but R Simply raised his bottle to him in a mock toast and then turned his back to him and I loved that, I love a bitter and petty Grantaire. Grantaire at the beginning was very amused by the whole situation and the excitement of the others, during red and black and the building of the barricade he kept hyping Gavroche up and parting his shoulder, nudging him towards the others as if it was all a game. When the first shots sounded he seemed to realize the gravity of the situation and started nudging Gavroche away and motioning for him to go away; later when the shooting for the fall of the barricade started sounding he lifted Gavroche in his arms and held him as the others started to fall until only them and Enjolras stood; then Gavroche went limp and R died with him, Enjolras died last. For the rest of the show and for Empty Chairs at Empty Tables Enjolras, Grantaire and Gavroche were on the small balcony/platform over the centre of the stage and to be honest it had a very "Father, Son and Holy Spirit" vibe in my opinion.

One Day More was absurd, it gave me chills all throughout.

When Valjean died and the bishop came in the hugged each other very hard, Valjean basically fell into the bishop's arms and that hit me hard.

Gavroche was so sassy I loved him.

Honestly everyone was perfect I literally have nothing bad to say. I think Enjolras's actor lost controls of his voice on a sillable but who cares, it was all amazing.

I also got merch! (It was all so expensive????? But I couldn't help myself). I got a tote bag with Cosette's famous illustration, a magnet and a brochure with the history of Lea Miserables and information and interviews of the World Tour cast. I also got 2 of the paper bags (they were cute okay) and my mum grabbed a literal handful of the bookmarks they were giving away lmao.

I'm sure I had something else I wanted to say but after these last 3 days my brain is completely scrambled. If any of you were at the show yesterday or are going in these days feel free to hit me up so we can go crazy together lmao

[symphony-in-a]

Per request - Enjolras’ final battle cry

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🌈 Queer Books Coming Out in April 2024 🌈

🌈 Good morning, my bookish bats! Struggling to keep up with all the amazing queer books coming out this month? Here are a FEW of the stunning, diverse queer books you can add to your TBR before the year is over. Remember to #readqueerallyear! Happy reading!

[ Release dates may have changed. ]

❤️ Spring on the Peninsula - Ery Shin 🧡 When I Arrived at the Castle - Emily Carroll 💛 Bloodline - Jenn Alexander 💚 Grey Dog - Elliott Gish 💙 Every Time You Hear That Song - Jenna Voris 💜 I'm in Love with the Villainess v. 2 - Inori and Hanagata ❤️ The Caravaggio Syndrome - Alessandro Giardino 🧡 Leather, Lace, and Locs - Anne Shade 💛 Firebugs - Nico Bulling 💙 I Married My Female Friend v.2 - Shio Usui 💜 The Final Curse of Ophelia Cray - Christine Calella 🌈 A Sweet Sting of Salt - Rose Sutherland ❤️ The Selected Shepherd: Poems - Reginald Shepherd 🧡 Rough Trade - Katrina Carrasco 💛 Aubrey McFadden is Never Getting Married - Georgia Beers 💚 Taming of a Rebel - Eada Friesian 💙 Dayspring - Anthony Oliveira 💜 The Titanic Survivors Book Club - Timothy Schaffert ❤️ Orphia And Eurydicius - Elyse John 🧡 The Fellowship of Puzzlemakers - Samuel Burr 💛 A Good Happy Girl - Marissa Higgins 💙 Winnie Nash Is Not Your Sunshine - Nicole Melleby 💜 Here We Go Again - Alison Cochrun 🌈 Women! In! Peril! - Jessie Ren Marshall

❤️ Blood City Rollers - V. P. Anderson and Tatiana Hill 🧡 The Prospects - KT Hoffman 💛 Crazy Like a Fox: Adventures in Schizophrenia - Christi Furnas 💚 WATCHNIGHT - Cyree Jarelle Johnson 💙 Love From The Sidelines - Tuesday Harper 💜 The Pleasure in Pain - Roxie Voorhees ❤️ Mal - Perla Zul 🧡 The Black Girl Survives in This One - Desiree S. Evans and Saraciea J. Fennell 💛 Darker by Four - June C.L. Tan 💙 Otherworldly - F.T. Lukens 💜 Hearts Still Beating - Brooke Archer 🌈 Tryst Six Venom - Penelope Douglas

❤️ Teenage Dirtbags - James Acker 🧡 The Heart Wants What It Wants - D.M. Batten 💛 Something Kindred by Ciera Burch 💚 Sheine Lende - Dr. Darcie Little Badger & Rovina Cai 💙 Rainbow Overalls - Maggie Fortuna 💜 Flowers for Dead Girls - Abigail Collins ❤️ Canto Contigo - Jonny Garza Villa

❤️ Court of Wanderers - Rin Chupeco 🧡 Molten Death - Leslie Karst 💛 Triad Magic - ‘Nathan Burgoine 💚 You, Me and Bad Movies - Twoony 💙 The Faithful Dark - Cate Baumer 💜 A Case for Discretion - Ashley Moore ❤️ Party of Fools - Cedar McCloud 🧡 The Last Love Song - Kalie Holford 💛 This is Me Trying - Racquel Marie 💙 Dear Wendy - Ann Zhao 💜 Sun Eater - Dre Levant 🌈 The Breakup Lists - Adib Khorram

❤️ Bad Dream - Nicole Maines & Rye Hickman 🧡 If We Were Stars - Eule Grey 💛 The Broken Lines of Us - Shia Woods 💚 Eye of the Ouroboros - Megan Bontrager 💙 Henry Henry - Allen Bratton 💜 Dear Bi Men - JR Yussuf ❤️ Paige Not Found - Jen Wilde 🧡 Mechanic Shop Femme’s Guide to Car Ownership - Chaya Milchtein 💛 Wide Awake Now - David Levithan 💙 Merciless Saviors - H.E. Edgmon 💜 Smile and Be a Villain - Yves Donlon 🌈 Crash Landing - Charmaine Anne Li

❤️ Call Forth a Fox - Markelle Grabo 🧡 Central Avenue Poetry Prize 2024 - Beau Adler 💛 Good Bones - Aurora Rey 💚 Curiosities - Anne Fleming 💙 Someone You Can Build a Nest in - John Wiswell 💜 Revisiting Summer Nights - Ashley Bartlett ❤️ Bright Spring - Emmaline Strange

❤️ Girls Night - I.S. Belle 🧡 Late Bloomer - Mazey Eddings 💛 Withered - A.G.A. Wilmot 💚 A Wolf Steps in Blood - Tamara Jerée 💙 It Always Finds Me - Anthology 💜 Dulhaniyaa - Talia Bhatt ❤️ Moon Dust in My Hairnet - JR Creaden 🧡 Blood Justice - Terry J. Benton-Walker 💛 Relinquishing Control - J.J. Arias

❤️ Selamlik - Khaled Alesmael 🧡 Houseswap 101 - Jaime Clevenger 💛 Earthflown by Frances Wren & Litarnes 💚 Covenant v.1 - LySandra Vuong 💙 Honey - Victor Lodato 💜 The Dragonfly Gambit - A.D. Sui ❤️ Double Dyno - Sharon K Angelici & Taylor Rose

[karaokebearwithal]

Pal'mier!

Okay okay okay, this took a while but I finally finished the ref of my new Githyanki Oc: Pal'mier! Thanks to @des-no9 for answering my anon ask :3 it helped a bunch with firming up her backstory :)

Some Fun Facts: > Her fighting style is a mix between Muay Thai and Capoeira > The symbol on its clothes is a reference to her name sake, a palmier (type of pastry) > Lost her index finger to frost bite

I don't have a definitive subclass for her yet but I do have backstory and lore™️! under the cut.

Okay so the story is that she was the first batch of gith kids hatched from a freshly formed creche on the material plane. It was in a very treacherous and wintery mountainous area, hard to reach harder to leave. Not many people in the immediate area.

Pal'mier hatched as a fat young baby, way larger than her peers and was instantly singled out by the varsh to grow up to be some sort of unstoppable gish soldier. However it got older, Pal never really grew into a desirable githyanki soldier. She struggled to wield weaponry, never grew as tall as her kin, her ears never developed to stand on their own so it had to tie them up so that she'd fit in more. Pal'mier grew to be a massive disappointment for her creche and was singled out by her creche mates to be picked on and bullied and used as a sparring partner (punching bag) often. Until one day her Sa'varsh instructed her to go out into the harsh wintery wilderness and survive for 2 days and if it came back and survived, Pal would get Vlaakith's favour. As sort of those githling trips they make the kids do to either die or become strong.

So Pal lept at the oppertunity to prove herself to her kin and left straight away only for like a freak accident to occur and an avalanche wiped out the whole creche hours into the challenge. In the shock of it all, Pal'mier decided that it was a sign from Vlaakith herself that Pal is actually the chosen one destined to be her right hand and her fave most special little githyanki in the world. So Pal'meir spent the next tenday wondering the mountain range before passing out from exhaustion and frost bite. Pal is then found by a monestary of monks (i haven't firmed up which its random for now) trying to save a child left lying in the snow all pale and frozen. Pal reacts as any feral gith child would when surrounded by istiks and fights them the whole time on it. But over time as she grows up to become a full adult she learns to live with them, their fighting styles and what a loving family is like <3 Then some time after that its abducted by the Zathisk and the BG3 plot happens :3

I'll be doing some oc question lists later but feel free to ask and send any questions about Pal'mier!! And also tell me about your githyanki oc so then ours can be friends : 3€

[esteemed-excellency]

I'm finally on pinterest! I spent the entire day making a reference board for Hiram and the Deviless, so here they are.

I also made two boards for Hiram (references + aesthetic), and two fashion boards.

The pics are from:

His Supreme Moment (1925), Jane Winton and Ronald Colman

Flesh and the Devil (1926), Greta Garbo and John Gilbert

Raffles (1930), Kay Francis and Ronald Colman

Maskerade (1934), Paula Wessely and Anton Walbrook

La Bohème (1926), John Gilbert and Lilian Gish

Ronald Colman again but I can't find the movie's title or the actress' name :(

The Masks of the Devil (1928), John Gilbert and Eva von Berne

William Powell and Myrna Loy, I can't remember the name of the movie but to be fair they made 14 movies together and I haven't seen them all

The Way of Lost Souls (1929), Warwick Ward and Paola Negri